Driving the Highway South
By Armando Ortiz
Eight thousand miles and the coffee cup is cold,
a constant swish of passing cars cycle through the road,
nights are longer, and cling on to me ever more
blowing winds from Michigan have been stalking.
Green pastures have turned dirty gold,
dawn and nightfall stay longer than the midday sun
the last crescent moon the Autumn shimmers
slowly rising on the eternal apricot horizon.
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A New Conquest
By Armando Ortiz
Imagine drones rising above clouds
measuring the heights of the Andes
going a thousand meters above valleys,
imagine online pages tipping the balance of choice
causing chaos in those rural mountains
an uproar alights the high altitude villages,
close your eyes and see cathedrals falling
as unseen lenses hone in on its towers
everything now exposed for the world to see,
dreams of being watched
and movements monitored
become a ticking reality.
Our brave new world is here
the future happens now
our faces recorded for eternity,
a new cavalry of empire builders
fly over the world making decisions
droning over who gets what,
remember the last Inca emperor, Atahualpa
and the overwhelming support of his people
scattering at the lightning crack of a canon,
recall Cuahtemoc who welcomed strange visitors
to his shimmering palace of quetzal feathers
only to be tied and executed for being of the devil,
musket fire and thundering sound
making SoCal natives shutter
running to the mountains and waiting.
An old world had landed on this world
forever transformed the evolution
man continuing recklessly as before,
this new world has returned
an order forcing change
turning of the corner for humanity,
this is the future
a new conquest
the way that will be,
creeping demons emerge from Xibala
that stars cannot decipher
but all humanity must adapt to,
gods no longer communicate with stars
they transmit dictums through glowing screens
denatured and desensitized with unfamiliar sounds.
Breaking Boundaries
By Armando Ortiz
-Mountains
These words flow
like the water that cuts through
the Manzanar detention center,
exiting rusted barb wire fences
hiking up the alpine trails
dreaming of swimming icy waters,
dead wind passing between bones
brittle and cold, a makeshift cry
a cairn shrine with jagged horizons.
-Deserts
These words wander
like sweaty bronzed bodies walking north
that are captured and caged,
brushing against the golden ocotillo
traversing strange desert canyons
digging for water to soak the mouth,
midnight howls between rock and femur
stinging nights, pounding afternoons
baked boulders glowing at night.
-Seas
These words wash up on the coast
swollen bodies float ashore
the last breath of hope is spoken,
determined they boarded
sailing north, crossing the gulf
anxious to step on land,
waves drown out wails
tempestuous night crashing balsas
paper boats drifting like torn flags.
-Highways
These words hum
wails drowned out by endless rolling
exhausted, the car is spewing black clouds,
crammed like sardines
every breath is a last stand
seeking air as tolerances squeeze,
each exhale closer to that edge of delirium
holding back tears, but other’s cries pass
bodily fluids mix and the journey is at the brink.
-Skies
If words were ants they’d fly on drones
hover over the border and celebrate
a grand entrance from sky to the floor,
like tiny spiders we’d float in the air past the walls
climb up to the highest tree on a windy day
and weave a string that would take us away,
if we had money we’d buy a new identity
then go to an embassy and apply for a visa
better yet, we’d enter as tourist and never return,
clouds are puffy with no worries to ponder
too old and wasted, but our children
youth and energy can still make it.
-Perimeter patrols
These words are surrounded by mountains
barren land amongst tattered buildings
barbed wire making cages,
breakthrough the boundaries
cancel the reservations
and escape from the ghetto,
boxes where we get encased
mind boundaries of color and identities
legal walls surround the body and mind,
take back what was lost
regain freedom and reconnect with earth
communities unite and break the gates.
The River Speaks
By Armando Ortiz
The river
speaks a language
reflecting on its day
the river
moves gently
while aspens wave
a bird dives down
and disappears into
the growing shade.
The river
talks with the moon
late into the evening
the river’s
story empties
into a liquid garden
unending flow
time unknown
its sounds widen.
Fortuna
By Armando Ortiz
Accariciando el cielo
con pluma y pintura,
me tienes pensando
en esta fortuna
Andando juntos
mirando estas vistas
pasando paisajes
con una sonrisa.
Caminamos sobre olas
el tiempo se espuma,
este momento es
mas que fortuna.
Behold him
who's engaged the world and
with folly has become wise.
Trying to follow
the word faithfully and falling
came to understand.
Through error and stumble
arising again experienced
with discerning eyes.
Behold Parzival,
who won every fight,
the fool turned red knight.
Missed Call
By Armando Ortiz
Yeah, I looked you up
after you accidentally called me
using a different program.
You were probably thinking of someone
while traveling through Eastern Europe
but in your mind a lingering memory
had you lost in hateful similes of me.
The ancient wandering rats of Rome
had you thinking of a sleazy and grimy opossum,
the foreign dialects that you heard had you wondering,
how true words could be so deceptive
to a lonesome soul.
You wore a white fuzzy cap,
a light blue dress with white borders
that fluttered to the Autumn winds
hid your body from all elements
and you had that unknown smile.
My eyes saw a tribal queen,
holding strong against the jet streams of
the Northern Asian steppes,
just a nomadic princess
made strong and determined by life’s
experience.
You were more than a marble bust
carved by the hands of Rodin,
like a rare precious Afghan stone,
that turned into the eyes of Venus over
the moonlight waters of Los Angeles.
I’ve moved on and
won’t return that call
but it raised many more questions
than it did answers at all.
I want to return to that accidental connection
and tell you about my situation,
you cannot to be my obsession, but
I’d walk with you in bazaars
along alleys and streets
and make memories anew.
But all you are is a reminder
of the time you said to leave
when you sent that message
where you turned the page
with our chapter closing,
making me disappear.
I have to remember that you are a digital copy
no longer here, but there, somewhere in LA,
a figment of the imagination
a morning frost in the middle of autumn
that disappears into the air by the time
I ring the bell to do my job with simple care.
Believe me though
I’d still eat you up
in one green light
digging deep
and striking gold.
Morning Light
By Armando Ortiz
You became the dream unfulfilled,
a drifting mist from the coast
that dissipates into the summer heat,
after I shared with you my secrets.
You were the calming white roar of the Pacific
when we slept by each other’s side.
We were not meant to walk together
along the beach, holding hands.
I didn’t roll up my jeans- knee high,
nor did your clothes get wet.
We didn’t get splashed by ocean foam
or feel ourselves sink into the sand
following the egret that walked ahead.
We just held hands
during a late summer day
and under a yellow maple tree
is where we kissed the first time.
We pressed against each other
giving comfort to ourselves,
while the sun set
west of the Verdugo Mountains.
I held you tight,
you bit my shoulder,
we didn’t declare our love,
but rode the waves of passion.
Like running water,
flowing into a precipice,
our wills were caught up
in the rush of desire.
You allowed me to taste
the saltiness of your skin
and to nibble the left earlobe,
our bodies flowed into disaster.
A magnetic water fall
we floated in mid air
falling into an abyss
of unknown experience.
You accused me of selfishness
after I told you my forgotten truths.
With you, I grew, and became
conscious of my foolishness.
You might have loved me once,
but your warmth is with me forever,
I harness that memory with these words
hoping that we both remember.
What I did was unforgivable
and only once did I try to apologize,
not daring to try again
instead, I meditated on that dying ember.
Later I was crushed by remorse
and questioned my sanity,
forgiveness from you is unattainable,
nor is the love of the Virgin Mary.
I awake from this illusion,
you are forever gone,
lost in a collection of memories,
you regret and despise having met.
Walking back to my car that night
left me void of emotions and sight,
I drove through the darkness of night,
till the break of day gave a shimmer of light.
Although we are now apart
maybe this apology
one day finds
a place in your heart.
